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Electricity's Erotic Dance: Le Centurion's Solitary Stimulation
In the dimly lit room, the Centurion, a rugged, mature man with a hint of silver in his hair, sits alone, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. He's dressed in nothing but a loose pair of jeans, the top button undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his tanned, hairy chest. A small, humming device lies in his lap, its purpose clear. He brings it to his nose, inhaling deeply, the scent of his own musk filling his nostrils. His hand, rough and calloused from years of labor, wraps around his throbbing cock, already leaking pre-cum. He starts slow, teasing, the electric pulses sending jolts of pleasure through his body. His strokes become more urgent, his breathing ragged, as he chases his release, the scent of his own sweat and sex filling the air.